RedTipped lilies
by JCSwriter
Summary: She had so many secrets. One of them was that she had a good reason for not liking to get flowers. Grace's past catches up to her putting them all in danger. ABANDONED
1. Chapter 1

I've been working on this idea for awhile now, and it took off after Jane and Van Pelt's conversation during "Bloodshot" about her tragic past. And the preview for this week's show gave me the idea of how to start it.

All recognizable characters are owned by their creators. Any mistakes are purely my own.

Lilies in blood

"Think about what you most want to do." His words to the hypnotized agent were soothing and encouraging at the same time.

Rigsby barely hesitated. He rose and went after Van Pelt as she walked away. He grabbed her, turned her, and kissed her soundly.

"Oh yeah, that's what I'm talking about," Jane grinned broadly.

"Jane," Lisbon reprimanded.

"Shh." He glanced around to the others then went back to staring at Wayne and Grace.

Grace was pushing against Wayne's chest but not resisting much. The other three just stood in voyeuristic amazement. Then the scene changed. Wayne's hand went from caressing Grace's cheek and jaw line, to gripping her throat. Grace's eyes flew open, and she began to shove at him. His grip tightened. He pulled back from the kiss and squeezed even tighter. Grace's eyes closed.

Cho leapt from his chair to tug futilely at the larger agent's arm. Jane stepped up quickly. "Wayne, release your grip with your right hand and step back. Do it now." When he released her, Grace slumped into Jane's waiting arm. "I'm going to count to three and click my fingers, when I do you are going wake up. You will remember everything but you will be calm. 1 2 3," Jane fought to keep his voice level and calm. He clicked his fingers, then scooped Grace into both arms to carry her to the sofa.

"What the hell?" Wayne looked confused. He abruptly sat down in the closest chair.

"She's really out, what did he do?" Cho asked.

"Compressed her carotid artery," Jane explained. "Grab a bottle of cold water and a towel would you please."

"You see," Lisbon scowled. "It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt. From now on no more hypnotizing the agents." She stooped down to check Grace's pulse in her wrist.

"You HYPNOTIZED me!?!" Rigsby asked.

"Not me," Jane took the paper towels and water from Cho.

"No you just took advantage," Cho replied. "Is she OK?"

Jane gently bathed her face with the wetted towel. "I never expected that response. The kiss yeah sure but… Come on Grace, wake up for me."

"Cho see if there is an ammonia capsule in the first aid kit," Lisbon ordered. "Do you think we need an ambulance?"

"I don't remember being hypnotized," Rigsby shook his head. "No watch. No focus on the coin."

With a sharply indrawn breath, Grace's eyes flew open. She looked from one concerned face to another with panic in her eyes.

"It's Ok, you're ok," Lisbon soothed. She reached toward Grace's face, but Grace flinched from her hand so she pulled it back. "How do you feel?"

Grace just nodded and started to sit up. Both Lisbon and Jane moved to help her but she pushed them both away.

"Take it slow," Jane ignored her reaction to his reach and helped her sit up and swing her legs down.

"How long was I hypnotized? What else did I do?" Wayne was still seated.

Cho rested his hip against the nearby desk. "Clucked like a chicken. Did some strange gymnastic flips down the hall."

"Really?"

"You should remember everything you did," Jane replied.

"God Grace I am so sorry," Rigsby stood up and crossed to the sofa. "I'm not sure why… I mean I wanted to kiss you. I love you, you know that. But I also hate you for making me feel this way and part of me wishes you never came here."

"Get away from me," she whispered.

"Grace…" Jane rubbed her arm, "He didn't…"

"Not him. You," she turned her gaze to him. Full of the same sadness he'd always detected, now coupled with anger and betrayal. "You are so mean. You find every button everyone has and then you push and push until we break. For your own amusement. And you," she now turned to Rigsby. "You love me? You don't know me. Name one thing you love besides the way I look."

"I… I…" Rigsby stood rubbing a hand across his hair.

"Thought so. All of you just leave me alone," Grace pushed to her feet and walked away. She was a bit unsteady, bracing herself on the desks then the wall as she left the office. Leaving four stunned people silently in her departure.

"You are an idiot," Cho shook his head at Rigsby. "She's brilliant," he counted off on his fingers, "She's warm and compassionate, she's sweet but strong, she knows more about football and mechanics then any ten women we know, and she never complains, even when we order Mexican for a week straight. There are five, you couldn't even come up with one?" He shoved away from the desk and went out of the room. He stood in the doorway for a moment staring in the direction Grace had gone, then he turned and walked the other way.

Lisbon rose from her crouch on the floor. "Thanks Jane, this should make for an interesting few days." She crossed the room and shut herself into her office.

Jane moved to sit on the couch and looked up at the only person left in the room. "Rigsby?"

"I wanted to kill her Jane, some part of me… wants her gone. How do I deal with that?"

Jane pulled a coin from his pocket and started it spinning on the floor. "Focus for a minute. Just concentrate…"

Rigsby brought his foot down firmly on the coin just missing Jane's fingers. "I think I've had enough of people messing with my head for one day, thanks."

A few hours later and the tension had not dissipated at all. Jane was on the couch pretending to work on a crossword puzzle. Grace, Rigsby, and Cho were all at their respective desks apparently working intently. No one talked. No one even looked at anyone else. "What's a four letter word for rude and inconsiderate?" Jane asked. "Starts with J. Anyone?"

"Jerk," Lisbon said as she emerged from her office. "I've got to head upstairs for awhile. If anyone goes out for lunch, grab a salad for me. Meanwhile please stick to your neutral corners."

"Were you answering my question or calling me a jerk?"

"Yes," Lisbon replied and left.

This got a smirk from Rigsby and a twitch from Cho. Nothing from Grace.

Then a sergeant from downstairs came in carrying a large bouquet of white lilies. "Van Pelt, delivery."

She looked up from her computer screen and went deathly pale. "What?"

"Delivery, is it your birthday or something?" he smiled warmly. She swallowed hard staring at the flowers like they were a bomb suddenly dropped on her desk. Her hand shook violently as she reached for the card. "You OK sweetheart?"

"Fine," she said hoarsely. "Thanks for bringing them up Charlie." She read the card and folded it to tuck into her pocket. Then she rose, "excuse me," and fled.

"I thought women liked flowers," Charlie shrugged.

"It's been a strange day up here," Jane patted his arm. "I don't think she's feeling well."

A few minutes after Charlie left, Grace returned looking even paler then before and still shaky. She didn't look at any of them just went straight to her desk. "Tell the boss I'm taking a sick day." She clicked a few keys on her keyboard and printed out a single sheet of paper. She wrote something on the bottom, folded it and put it into the desk drawer.

"Grace, are you… I mean can I…" Rigsby stammered out.

"I'm fine," she replied. "Just feeling sick." She opened and closed the other drawers in the desk but they couldn't see what she was doing.

"Want a ride home," Cho offered.

"No thanks, I'm fine."

"Well obviously you're not fine," Jane said. Grace just looked at him. "If you need anything, just call." She nodded then looked to Rigsby and Cho in turn and gave them each a small smile.

"Good night, Grace," Rigsby said. "And I am so sorry."

She nodded, "Good bye."


	2. Chapter 2

Lisbon called down a short while later and a sudden break in their case kept them busy for the rest of the afternoon. It wasn't until late evening that they returned to the office. They pulled into the parking lot just ahead of a black SUV. As they stopped, two men in suits spilled out of the vehicle. The driver strode over to their SUV, "Where's Grace Van Pelt?"

"And you are?" Rigsby demanded.

"Agent Kingston, FBI. She went home sick earlier this afternoon," Lisbon replied. "What is going on?"

"She's not home," the other suit corrected. "We've been there. Her emergency bag is gone."

"Emergency bag?" Jane asked.

Both men exchanged looks. "I told you, they aren't going to know anything. We are wasting time."

"Dave," Kingston sighed. "We need help. I can't assign any more resources until we're sure he's even here!"

Dave turned. "She by any chance get a flower delivery today?"

"Yeah," Rigsby nodded.

"White lilies," Dave and Cho said in unison.

"He's here," Dave stated. "And he's already found her. What more proof you need? First dead body?"

"Fine, let's go. She's got a seven hour head start. Where do you suggest we start looking?" Kingston slammed back.

"Let's go inside," Lisbon said in the resulting silence.

"How much do you know?" Alex Kingston asked. He'd introduced his associate as Dave Ross who was currently staring at the lilies on Grace's desk.

"I'm assuming nothing since no one responded to the flower delivery," Dave Ross replied. "And since Grace isn't one to share much."

"Are you more willing to share?" Lisbon asked sharply.

Dave sat down on the edge of Grace's desk. "Pull up a seat."

"Look I'm all for finding out what happened to her, but shouldn't we first find out… what happened to her? Where she went?" Cho asked.

"Where would you suggest we start looking?" Kingston responded. "Trust me; once she's gone, she's gone. You will not find her."

"Her cell phone has GPS," Lisbon remembered.

Cho whipped out his cell and pressed a speed dial number. A second later, there came a ring tone from Grace's desk. With his phone pressed to his ear, he opened the top drawer and pulled out her cell.

"Anything else in there?" Lisbon asked.

"Phone, gun, badge and ID," Cho listed the items as he pulled them out. Then he opened the folded sheet of paper and read it quickly. "That's it." He refolded the paper.

"What's that?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing is ever really nothing," Jane retorted.

"It's a letter of resignation," Cho said.

"Put it back, we didn't find it," Lisbon ordered. "Is she back in her own car yet? Or is she still in the rental?" Two phone calls later determined that neither was true. Her own car was still waiting on repairs, but she'd returned the rental that day at 1:30. "I've ordered a state wide broadcast but without the vehicle we more or less have to wait for something to happen." She sat down. "Floor's yours Agent Ross.

Dave began, "Grace joined the Pennsylvania State Police just after her twenty first birthday."

"Pennsylvania? She's from Pennsylvania?" Jane started. "I thought she was from Iowa."

"No. She was born in Virginia just outside of DC. After her mother died, her father got a job coaching football at a college near Philadelphia. Moved her there when she was eight. Do you know anything at all about her?" Dave shook his head. "Anyway, she was still with her Training Officer, about eight weeks in and they walked into the middle of a bank robbery. Wrong place wrong time, he was cashing a check. She was injured at the scene and while she was recovering, her T.O. got his promotion to Detective and was transferred into Violent Crimes. He brought her along on light duty. And frankly we kept her. She was smart and good at problem solving. Four years later we caught a case. Three women dead in the space of about five weeks. Each one was found with a single white lily on her chest. Thing is starting a week before the first body was found, Grace started getting bouquets of white lilies anonymously. Could have been a coincidence, sure. But after the third vic was found, the next day's lilies came in tipped in her blood. Pretty much solidified we had one perp. The fifth victim was a dead ringer for Grace, similar build, same hair though it was professionally dyed. Then it all ended. No more deaths, no more flowers. Five victims in two months then nothing for six. We thought maybe he died or went to jail. During that time, Grace started dating a cop in the precinct. Sam Wilson. I… liked him. Thought he was good for Grace. So did Jack."

"Sorry to interrupt but Jack?" Lisbon said.

"Jack Ross," he answered. "Grace's T.O." He stopped and took a steadying breath and muffled a cough. "And my brother," Dave Ross added. "Jack and his wife Shannon more or less adopted Grace. She and their son Will are still very close." He cleared his throat. "After six months, the perp hit again with a vengeance. Four women in sixteen days. All four were tall and thin. And he dyed all four's hair to match Grace's. And now the lilies came with letters and photographs. He was following her everywhere. And then a frightening possibility came up."

Kingston took over, "Each crime scene was pristine. There were no stray hairs, no prints, no forensic evidence of any kind on the bodies. Each one was dumped in a relatively public area but there were never any witnesses to the dumps. And we had no idea where the actual killings took place. We knew he abducted them from their cars, held them for two or three days, then raped, killed and dumped them." At their expressions he explained. "I was assigned to the Philadelphia field office at the time. Transferred out here two years ago."

"You began to suspect it was a cop," Jane observed.

"Yeah," Dave nodded. "My brother took Grace and hid her. Wouldn't even tell me where she was. I knew of course, but he wouldn't admit to it. After four days, he went to check on her. And he took Sam." He stopped and cleared his throat. "Took Sam right to her."

Lisbon swallowed hard, "Oh God. Oh my God."

"Yeah," Kingston nodded.

Lisbon hugged herself tightly. "Oh Grace."

"What happened?" Rigsby asked through a tightly clenched jaw.

"We finally got a lead on the lilies. He was growing them in a greenhouse in his own back yard," Ross said. "I knew Jack had taken her to our parent's fishing cabin. But we were about two hours behind them." He stopped and shook his head. Cho got up and slipped out of the room.

"When we got there, Jack was bleeding from a gunshot wound," Kingston continued. "He was able to tell us that Sam had Grace. Sam pulled a gun and Jack got between them. Jack died there on the floor."

"We knew they were on foot or in a boat so we started searching the other cabins on the lake. There were about two hundred and twenty." Dave accepted a bottle of water from Cho. "Thanks. We were about three hours into the search when she walked out of a cabin across the lake from mine. She was covered in Jack's blood and had been beaten severely. But when Sam started to rape her, she kicked him sharply in the groin and stabbed him in the chest with a kitchen knife."

"I'm guessing he didn't die," Cho said.

"No. Did some damage to his heart. Rendered him sterile but no the bastard didn't die," Dave advised. "Jury found him guilty and sentenced him to life no parole. He's been in the Pennsylvania State Prison system ever since. Or he was until about two weeks ago."

"Two weeks! This guy's been out for two weeks and you didn't contact her?" Rigsby leapt to his feet.

"No one knew he was out," Dave snapped. He swallowed a long drink of water and took a deep breath. "He was transferred out of one facility when it became overcrowded. The inmate who went in to the new facility was positively ID'ed as Wilson, all the paperwork said he was Wilson and the photo matched the guy they had. They had no reason to question it."

"How," Lisbon asked.

"When everything was happening in Philly, Sam had help in the precinct. A female clerk named Linda Miller. She tampered with evidence, destroyed records, generally created mayhem. We think she had a hand in his escape. She may also have tracked down Grace. The car being registered in Iowa was a ruse. If she'd tracked her that far we would have been alerted so I'm not sure what happened. When she called me today, I had a guard go to his cell with my photo. That's when we realized that Sam was out. I caught the first available flight."

"She called you? When?" Jane asked

"About noon. Wanted to be sure he was still locked up. I knew something must be really wrong so I told her to stay here until I could get to her," Dave said. "But my guess is she didn't want to risk anyone else's life."

"She called you at twelve? Can I see your cell?" Jane asked.

"She called from a prepaid cell, we can't track it," Dave handed over the phone. "This isn't my first trip to the fair, Mr. Jane."

"Mine either," Jane grinned. He opened his own phone, activated the speaker, and dialed the number from Ross' phone's memory. It rang six times then went to a generic voicemail. He hung up and dialed again. Then again. And again.

"So your goal is to piss her off?" Dave scowled.

"It's what he does," Lisbon sighed.

Five rings. "Leave me alone Jane."

"Grace where in the hell are you!?!" Dave shouted.

"Away."

Jane held up a hand and took a few steps away. "I just had to ask Grace. Are you more afraid that we'll stand between you and him and something will happen? Or is it that so much has happened you don't think we'll stand between you and him? Just answer that question for me."

There was silence on the line, then a soft sob. "It doesn't really matter."

"It matters to me, Grace. Not too long ago, our Teresa told me that she doesn't fully trust me. And this morning you said I was mean. So I need to know."

"I don't know. And I don't want to find out." Click.

He dialed again. And again. And again.

"Jane, stop."

"You could just turn off the phone. But you won't. This is your only link to the people who care about you."

"Forget about me."

"Never."

"He'll kill you."

"Oh he might try, but better men have. Think about it Grace, he's been out for two weeks and knew where you were. At any time he could have grabbed you. Instead he sends you flowers alerting you not only that he is out but that he is close."

"It's his way. Terrorizing," Grace replied.

"So don't let him. Come back and we'll keep you safe."

Click.

Jane sighed long and deep, "This might take awhile. I'd love pizza for dinner." He dialed again, this time bringing the phone to his ear. "Seriously guys. Pizza. If I hear anything that tells me where she is, I'll find you. My guess is she is still driving around somewhere, probably close. Put out a broadcast, maybe we'll get lucky and she'll run a stop sign or something." He hung up and dialed again. "Go. Away."

Three am

Jane's voice was just starting to get hoarse. "Where else is safest, Grace?"

"No where is safe," her voice was barely a whisper.

He was lying on the couch, alone in the office. About one, Lisbon had ordered the Cho and Rigsby to go home and rest. Or at least shower. Kingston and Ross had left about the same time with the same intention. Jane had sworn to call if any part of their conversation indicated where she was. So far he was only sure that she was still driving around somewhere out there. For all he knew, she'd been driving steadily away for thirteen hours, but he believed that she was still in the city.

"You've got to be getting tired," Jane said. "I know I am."

"So stop calling me and get some sleep," she retorted. "Why are all these people out here driving around? Don't they know it's three o'clock?"

"It's busy downtown tonight, hmm?"

"Nice try," she sighed without any amusement. "But I am not…" then she gasped sharply. Through the phone he heard the unmistakable sound of crunching metal and shattering glass.

"Grace! Answer me Grace," Jane was on his feet and shouting.

"I'm OK," came a soft sob.

"Grace talk to me."

"Hey you stupid bitch, why don't you watch where I'm going," the voice was loud and slurred. "Hey. I'm TALKING TO YOU!"

Then Jane heard a siren and the definite firm voice of a cop. "Sir, step away from the vehicle and put your hands up."

"Grace, hand the phone over to the officer," Jane ordered. "Grace. There is already a broadcast out. Hand the phone to the officer."

A male voice came on the line, "Yes?"

"Officer, my name is Patrick Jane and I work for the California Bureau of Investigation…."

"Mr. Jane? It's Officer Phillips," came the response.

"Where are you?" Jane asked. The answer made him pause then grab his jacket to run out the door.

He'd known she was driving around. He'd thought she was close. But it never occurred to him that she would be that close. He hit the door at a sprint, went out of the parking lot and paused. The accident was at the end of the block, the lights clearly visible. Officer Phillips was just getting off duty and had come upon the accident as he left the office. Jane went passed him to where Grace stood on the curb. She was shivering in the cool night air, her face was pale and shadowed, her eyes were swimming with unshed tears. He gathered her close and gently kissed the top of her head.

"Come on. Come on with me," he commanded gently.

"I'll get her car into the lot," Phillips offered.

"Thanks," Jane nodded. He kept Grace tucked under his arm as they walked back up the street to the headquarters building. They reached the building and she froze in place. He tried to coax her forward but her gaze was locked on the doorway.

There on the step. Inside the secure perimeter. Inside the safe place he was insisting on returning her to. In the ring of light, bright in the darkness. There sat a vase of flowers. A vase of white lilies. From where they stood they could clearly see the edges were tipped in dried black blood.


	3. Chapter 3

Red Tipped Lilies

"Lisbon"

"It's me," Jane said. "I've got her."

"What? How? Where?"

"No time," Jane replied. "He breached the security at the building. He left lilies on the steps. Tipped in blood. Crime scene has it secure."

"Where are you?" Teresa's voice was slightly muffled.

"I won't tell you that," Jane responded. "What are you doing?"

"Getting dressed. What do you mean you won't tell me that?"

"Lisbon, the flowers weren't there when I went out the door. I was gone maybe five minutes. He had to have been right there."

"Doesn't explain why you won't tell me where you are."

"I think Jack had the right idea, Teresa. No one else needs to know where we are. I'll keep my cell on."

Click.

()

Grace awoke with a sharply indrawn breath. She was laying face down in the hotel bed where she'd collapsed. Jane was lying next to her on his side. One hand was tucked under his cheek; the other must be the weight on her back. He was still asleep. She closed her eyes and thought back to the night before. Morning before? It was still foggy.

They'd driven around for over an hour. Jane doubling back, driving randomly around Sacramento. Then suddenly he turned into the parking lot and turned off the ignition. "Come on, we're here." He opened the door and stepped out.

She looked around for the first time, "What? We can't stay here." She stared at the elite five star hotel.

"Why not?" he leaned back in. "If we've got to go on the lam, at least we can do it in high style."

"Women are dead Jane! Killed by a man who wants to k.. kill me and anyone I care about."

"I'm only going to say this once. He will not get anywhere near you. I will not allow this man to ever hurt you again. Do you understand me?" his face was intense, his gaze held hers and wouldn't let go. "We are going to go inside and check into a room. Then you are going to sleep for a few hours. We aren't going to tell anyone else where we are. And we won't ease up until this bastard is either locked in a very small cell or buried in a cemetery. OK?"

And therein lay the problem. She actually had considered just running at that point. But her mind was moving slowly and he was around the car and had her arm firmly in his hand before she could process the idea to her feet. So she let him shoulder both of their bags and lead her into the lobby. It struck her in that moment that he too had a bag ready to go at a moments notice. She wondered if it had anything but three piece suits inside.

Inside the elegant lobby, Jane turned the charm on full force. The concierge and clerk were instantly captivated. Jane explained that they had travelled all night only to find that another hotel had cancelled their reservation. That his wife was exhausted. No he didn't have a credit card, but he had more than enough cash to cover the room for a week. A few quick distractions. Him stroking a finger down her cheek. Tapping his wedding ring on the counter. For all she knew, he'd hypnotized them all. By the time Jane signed in using a fake name, Grace was swaying on her feet. The concierge carried their bags himself to the elevator. He'd looked curiously a few times at the bruises on her neck but never said a word. It felt like years since Rigsby had squeezed her throat so hard she'd fainted.

"Almost there sweetheart," Jane whispered as he tucked her under his arm.

The room was huge. Elegant. Fancy. It had a small sitting area and a kitchen nook. More of a one bedroom suite then a room. Those things drifted through her muddled brain as she'd showered. She'd hoped that the water would chase some of the fog from her thoughts but the warmth just relaxed her even further. She'd emerged to find Jane in conversation on the phone. He'd changed into a pair of jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt. That sight alone should have snapped her awake. Instead she'd groggily crossed to the bed that had been turned down. Jane ended the phone call and followed her.

"Climb in," he'd ordered gently. And she'd done so. He stretched out next to her and reached over to brush her damp hair back. "It's OK. Everything is going to be OK. Just sleep. It's OK. You're safe." She'd sank down into sleep with his soothing words in her ear and his warm hand rubbing circles on her back.

But now she was awake and she knew. It's wasn't OK. It wasn't safe. Nowhere was. She slipped from the bed cautiously but Jane didn't stir. A quick clean up in the bathroom, her hair yanked back into a band. Fresh clothes from her bag. A quick note of apology. It would have to be enough. She crept across the room and was at the door.

"Where do you think you are going?"

His sudden voice in the silence startled her and she jumped. "I… I was…"

He rose from the bed to stand in front of her, blocking the door. "I know you weren't just going to leave."

"Jane," she whispered. "Please just let me…"

"No," he said firmly. "You step one step out of that door without me and I will call Lisbon. How far do you think you'll get? Your car is still at the office." She covered her face with her hands and he rubbed her arms. "Come on. He can't find you here. No one can. We'll lay low…"

"And then what," she stepped away from his touch. "The last time I rejected him he killed four women. What do you think he'll do if he realizes I'm hiding from him?"

"I don't know," Jane replied. "But we will figure this out. You rejected him? While you were dating, during the six months…."

"The six months when he wasn't killing," she finished his sentence. Realizing she wasn't going to be able to leave, she went to the sitting area and sank into a chair.

"Why?" He followed her to the chairs and pulled one so he could sit facing her.

She bit her lip and swallowed, "Just say I finally saw the demon inside the man."

"He hit you," Jane said. "The son of a bitch hit you didn't he. I should have known. More then once I'm willing to bet. I'd also lay money that you never told anyone. Why did it change? You took it for awhile."

"Will found out. Will Ross."

"Jack's son. Dave's nephew." Jane realized. "Dave briefed us last night."

"Will's my friend. Closest thing I've ever had to a big brother. He was furious when he saw it. Got right into Sam's face and threw him out of my apartment. Looking back I'm kind of surprised. Sam just left."

"Bullies often back down when confronted with a physical threat," Jane took her hands in his and slipped his finger over the pulse point in her wrist. "But Will could be a target now."

Grace shook her head, "He's in protective custody already. I made sure of that."

Jane's cell phone rang. He snatched it from his pocket with a grimace, "Lisbon."

"Where are you?"

"We've been through this woman, the fewer…"

"Fine," she interrupted with a snap. "Are you anywhere near her apartment building?"

"No. Why?"

Then he heard the car door open and the sound of sirens reached him. "Because someone set it on fire." He could hear the pop and roar of a fully engulfed fire.

()

Lisbon took a long drink of coffee. "OK so here's what we have." They were in the office. Dave Ross sat at Grace's desk. The lilies were gone. There were several FBI agents in suits, other members of the CBI, and the bosses. All were looking to Lisbon. "Can you two hear me?"

"Loud and clear," Jane's voice came from the speaker phone.

"Blood results are still pending. We know it's female and matched the blood type to his accomplice, Linda Miller. Still waiting on DNA. If she's dead, we haven't found the body yet, but there was not much blood actually on the lilies. Her whereabouts are still unknown."

"She managed to convince a jury that she'd been fooled. Just a young girl in love with the wrong man," Dave filled in. "Jury bought it and we couldn't do a thing. She left Philly a month or two after Grace did. We knew she went south to Virginia then South Carolina. We hoped she just kept going."

"As for the fire," Lisbon continued. "About eight thirty this morning a man in a Sacramento PD uniform went door to door through the building asking for information about Grace."

"Grace," Dave interrupted, "You and I are going to have a long talk about the fact that the only person in the building who knows you is the drug dealing low life in the next apartment. With whom you seem to be on a first name basis."

A few officers shifted uncomfortably, including Rigsby who glowered at Dave.

"Technically I'm on a first name basis with his son. Who is on a first name basis with everyone he's ever met. And Tyrell stopped dealing after his son was born. TJ is his whole life now."

"TJ wanted me to tell you he has a new fish," Wayne said loudly. "His name is Leedo and he's a Nemo, whatever that means."

"Clown fish," came the response from a few officers.

"Back to the briefing," Lisbon spoke loudly. "About an hour or so later, the same man came through saying there was a gas leak. He evacuated the building before the fire started in the basement. Everyone got out, including Tyrell Jackson and his son TJ."

Cho picked up the briefing "Tyrell actually is our best witness. He never believed this guy was a cop. Said the vibe was wrong. He easily identified the man as Sam Wilson from a photo array. And once outside he called 911. Fire Department got there before the fire spread passed the second floor. Some smoke and water damage on the third and fourth, but everything above the fifth is fine. Building isn't structurally sound though."

"Grace," Lisbon cleared her throat. "Your apartment wasn't burned, but he got in there. Fire department reported that everything inside was soaked in accelerant. Either gasoline or kerosene. Everything is ruined. Clothes, furniture, everything."

There was a long moment of silence. Then Grace broke it, "Anything that really matters to me is in a storage facility. I learned my lesson last time."

"He burned your place?" Wayne asked.

"Took a knife to most of it," Dave answered. "After Jack took her into hiding."

One of the CBI uniformed officers leaned forward, "You knew, didn't you Agent Van Pelt. You knew that you weren't safe. That he'd come after you."

"Yeah," her voice was soft. "Like a storm on the horizon. Sooner or later it's going to hit. I knew as long as he was alive, I was never really free."

"So this time we kill the bastard," Cho said in his usual level tone.

"Whoa, whoa," Minnelli spoke for the first time. "We are law enforcement officers, not a vigilante mob. If we find him, we arrest him."

"With all due respect sir," Wayne stood up. "If the opportunity arises to end this with deadly force, I for one plan to take it. If that is that much of a problem…" he yanked his badge from his belt and slapped it down on the desktop.

Cho's landed next to his. Followed almost instantly by five or six more. CBI and FBI alike.

Instead of relief, in the hotel suite, Grace looked sick and terrified.

()

A few more hours passed. It was now mid afternoon. Jane had ordered food, but Grace simply picked barely consuming anything. After the room service tray had been cleared, he sat down across from her. "Talk to me Grace."

"About what?"

"How much of the case file do you remember?"

"All of it. All nine women. Their names. Their faces. And now he's killed again. Ten. Ten women to remember."

"Where were the bodies found?"

She rubbed her face tiredly. "Public places. He wanted them found. One was dumped at a bus stop. Another outside of a high school. He was using the cabin to keep them. That's where he raped and killed them."

"Where he took you. To rape you."

"He didn't."

"Really? He had you for hours Grace."

"He did not rape me," she met his eyes firmly. "He was talking like we were on vacation. Just a couple days in the cabin. I was sitting there covered in Jack's blood with a broken wrist and he acted like it was just …" she took a breath when her voice began to shake. "I tried to get away when he walked into the kitchen. That's when he started the beating. He was yanking on my pants when I kicked him. Jack always taught me to use my heel. More strength that way. He grabbed the knife and sliced at me. I got it from him and stabbed him in the chest. Missed his heart by less then an inch. One inch."

Jane nodded, "Just a suggestion but if the opportunity comes up again, put a bullet between his eyes." He was quiet for a moment. "Tell me…"

"No," she shook her head. "I've done nothing but spill my secrets to you for a day now."

"OK," Jane sat back in the chair. "You want one of mine? I'm sure I can think of one…"

There was something calculating in her eyes as she spoke, "Do you remember the psychic woman who helped with the case where the daughter ran down her mother?"

"She wasn't a psychic, there's no such thing. But yes, I remember."

"After the case was done, she came to you. She said something to you in the interview room. Something that made you cry. What was it?"

Jane swallowed hard. "What? How?"

"I closed the door to give you privacy that night. But since we're ripping away all of mine, I'm opening it up again. What did she say?"

"I don't remember," he rose to pace.

"Liar."

"Frequently, but it isn't important. Grace she was a fraud. And a liar. What she said wasn't important."

"So unimportant that you cried for a half hour and never realized I was still in the office," Grace pushed further. "You're not a coward Patrick. What did she say?"

"She said that my wife came to her. And answered the one question I had about that night."

"Which was?"

Patrick's tone slapped at her, "Which was none of your business."

"So? Never stopped you before. What was the question?"

He leaned down over her in the chair. Anger in his voice and his posture. She flinched from him, but he was too far along to stop. "She said that Hailey never woke up. That Maggie said Hailey slept through the attack. She wasn't awake. She wasn't afraid." He slapped his hands down on the arms of the chair.

"But of course you can't believe that, as much as you want to," Grace sneered. "Because she was a liar and a fraud. So you just have to keep on going, not knowing."

Patrick felt the rage bursting through the thin veneer of civility he always maintained. His hands clenched into fist and he shoved away from her, afraid he would actually hurt her. He stormed over and into the bathroom, slamming the door so hard it rattled the picture on the wall. He leaned over the sink, gripping the edge hard. Self hypnosis came almost automatically as he tried to calm his heart rate, slow his breathing, dissipate the adrenalin coursing through his blood. It took some time but he calmed down. He splashed some cold water onto his face and looked into the mirror. This was completely out of character for Grace. She was tired, but even tired and stressed she was never deliberately mean. She would never…

He realized what had happened and yanked open the bathroom door.

Sure enough the room was empty. Her bag was gone. She was gone.

"Damn it all to hell," he snapped as he strode across the room. He was almost to the door when his phone rang with Lisbon's familiar ring. He raced back and snatched it up.

"Lisbon, now's not a good time."

"Mr. Jane? My name is Sam Wilson. Ms. Lisbon was kind enough to let me use her phone. You can call me when it's more convenient. We need to discuss something very important. Please give Grace my love."

Click.

A/N – I couldn't find any reference to Jane's wife or daughter's name. So I named them Maggie and Hailey. If I'm wrong, please let me know.


	4. Chapter 4

He wanted to scream. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to fall into complete and utter panic.

Instead he picked up his bag, walked out of the room and shut the door firmly behind him. He clutched the phone tightly in his fist as the elevator descended to the lobby. He lied easily to the desk clerk. Family emergency, they needed to leave. As always, money talks. And lots of money talks very loudly. Of course, Mr. Tate. Anything you need, Mr. Tate. We hope everything is OK, sir. Your wife is just outside waiting on the cab we called for her. No one questioned why his 'wife' was trying to leave without him if there was a family emergency.

Grace was at the edge of the parking lot when he slammed his car to a stop next to her.

"Get in," he ordered.

"Jane, I'm sorry, I just."

"Get in this car right now," he got out and looked at her over the roof. "Don't make me force you. Get in." He saw fear in her eyes from his tone as she did as she was told. Then the fear turned into terror with his words, "He's got Lisbon."

(XXXXX)

Patrick Jane sat for a long moment staring at the dashboard. Then he looked to the woman in the passenger seat. She nodded to him. He activated the speaker phone and dialed Lisbon's number with a shaky hand.

"Hello!" the man's voice was cheerful and calm. "Grace darling is that you?"

"I'm here Sam," she replied.

"Oh God it is so good to hear your voice. I've missed you so much. How are you my darling?"

Grace had to breathe for a second before she could respond, "I'm well enough. I've missed you too. Where are you?"

"I found us a house!"

"You did? That's great Sam. Are you there now? Where is it?"

"Will you come to me?"

"I will I promise."

His voice became low and fierce. "Good because if you don't I'm going to have to hurt your pretty boss. I don't want to, darling. She's been so nice to you. But you know I will if I have to. If you don't behave."

"I know. I'll behave. I want to be with you Sam."

"OK then," cheerful again. "You come to me and she can go. We'll be a family, just like I always wanted us to be."

"Where are you Sam?"

"It's a new development just outside of city limits," he rattled off the address. "I'll see you soon. I love you my darling."

"See you soon."

"Say it."

"What?"

"Say you love me too," it was an eerie sing song voice. "Say it or I'll slit her throat."

"I love you Sam."

"Good girl. Come to me now."

Click.

(XXXXX)

It was a beautiful house in a quiet neighborhood. Trees lined the streets. Toys and swing sets in most yards.

And a large battalion of SWAT members swarming through.

Grace sat in the front of Jane's car, shivering despite the warm afternoon sun. It had been an hour since the phone call. The longest hour of her life.

They knew that Lisbon had gone down to her car to get her pack and a change of clothes that didn't smell like smoke. She'd gone alone because she wasn't actually going outside of the office security. Beyond that they had no idea. But he'd had her for hours. She really wanted to wake up from this nightmare now. She looked at the house. It was small, not many windows. Hard for SWAT to get a good view inside. No way to know what was going on inside.

No way to be sure if Lisbon was even still alive.

"Are you OK?" Wayne was hovering. "God, that's stupid of course you're not OK. But…"

"I'm fine," she assured him.

Jane was standing near the CBI mobile command unit with Cho and Dave Ross. They'd both greeted her with hugs, but then left her here with Rigsby standing as guard dog. She knew they wouldn't let her trade herself for Lisbon, but she'd still suggested it. The SWAT team leader had stared her down, "We don't exchange hostages. We do not negotiate. Sit here." So she sat, with Rigsby hovering. With Sam probably watching from inside the house.

"Wayne?"

"Yeah, Grace?" he stooped down to below her eye level. He laid his hand over her clenched fists in her lap.

She relaxed one hand and moved it to cover his. She smiled at him.

"I am so sorry Grace. About everything."

She reached up and cupped his face, "It's OK. I know." She bit on her lip for a moment. "I am really thirsty. Do you think there's any water in the M.C. truck?"

"I'll go see. You stay here," he went to his feet and strode away.

"I'm sorry Wayne," she whispered softly. Once he was almost through to the truck, she got to her feet. She walked slowly but with purpose around Jane's car. The few officers who noticed her movement didn't seem too concerned. Until she started across the street.

"Agent Van Pelt?!?!"

"Van Pelt?" Cho.

"GRACE?" Rigsby. "NO!"

"Grace, Don't" Dave.

She ignored them all and hurried across the yard, up the three steps to the porch. She could hear the pounding of feet, heavy clank of equipment on men. Then she was to the door and pulling it open, "I'm here Sam."

"Grace. Oh my darling Grace."

He was in the small living room just inside the door. His back was to the wall looking remarkably handsome. As tall and muscular as she remembered, black hair cropped crew cut short. Lisbon was in a chair in front of him with a knife to her throat. At her feet was a small girl, maybe three, with long auburn hair clutching a ragged teddy bear.

"Shut the door Grace."

"Let Lisbon go first."

The knife pressed further into flesh. "Shut. The. Door."

Then Patrick Jane burst through the door, "Sam Wilson? Hi, I'm Patrick Jane, we spoke on the phone." He stepped further in and shut the door. He placed a hand on Grace's back and urged her further into the room. "Hey Theresa." He looked around seeming oblivious to the knife. "This is a beautiful house Sam. Is it OK that I call you Sam?"

"Uhm, sure?" Sam looked confused.

Patrick smiled broadly, "Good. I just wanted to meet you. Make sure Grace had found a nice young man."

Sam smiled back at him, "Of course. People are like that with Grace. I know I am. To know her is to love her. Everyone wants to protect her. Because she gets into so much trouble on her own."

"Don't I know it," Patrick laughed with a conspiring wink. "So what do we need to do here?"

"First, both of you need to put your guns on the table," Sam demanded. "NOW!"

The little girl cringed into Lisbon's legs.

"Easy, Sam, easy," Patrick soothed. "Now I don't have a gun. I'm a consultant with the CBI and they don't let me have a gun." He held up his jacket and turned around in place. "And Grace left hers in her desk. Show him Grace." She complied, holding up her shirt revealing bare skin above her waistband. "We're not armed. We wouldn't walk into a house with a child with guns, it wouldn't be safe." He waved at the girl. Then he looked around the room again. "This is a really nice place here Sam. Can I take a quick peek around? See what's what?"

"He does this," Grace said softly. "He's very curious by nature."

"Curiosity killed the cat," Sam sang with a grin.

Patrick walked into the dining room across the hall. "Satisfaction brought him back." Through further into the kitchen where a man and woman lay on the floor. Both were bound with tape, the man bleeding from the head. The woman's eyes met his, full of panic and dread. He lifted a finger to his lips and stepped back out. He closed the door from the hall to the dining room and returned to the living room. "Give us some privacy to talk."

"What do you want Sam?" Grace asked.

"What I've always wanted. You. Us together. It's all I ever wanted," he replied. "But for now, I want you two in front of the window with your hands up." He gestured with his chin. Grace raised her hands and stepped to the side. Then Patrick moved to stand slightly in front of her, ignoring her worried gasp.

"OK," Patrick said. "Now what?"

Sam scowled, clearly confused.

"Who is the little girl Sam?" Grace asked. "What is her name?"

"She's ours now. We'll name her what we want," Sam declared.

"Ours?"

"To replace the one you KILLED!" Sam raged. "Oh I know. I know all about it. You cut our baby out of your womb."

"I never…" Grace gasped.

"Easy," Patrick whispered.

"Cut it out and threw it away. How COULD YOU? You know how much I want a baby."

"I know," Grace lowered her head, "Sam I would never kill our baby. I tried. I really did. But they said the stress was just too much." She lifted her gaze with tears in her eyes. "I mean Jack was gone, and you know how much he meant to me. He was like my father. And they kept saying horrible things."

"They blamed me for it, didn't they?"

She nodded and swallowed, "They kept saying that you killed him Sam. And I was so confused. And I was hurt. And I…" she broke off.

"Oh darling, you lost it. I am so sorry, so very sorry. But it's OK now. We have this little girl. I picked her out special, just for you. She's beautiful. And her hair is just like yours."

Grace smiled, "She is so sweet and pretty. But she's not ours Sam." The smile faded. "She's not ours. I didn't carry her. Didn't give birth to her. She's not ours."

"I can't father children anymore Grace. Something happened. I don't really remember. But I can't give you a baby, Grace."

"Oh come on, Sam," Patrick said. "There are ways. There's always a way."

Grace nodded, "Of course there is. Sam there's insemination or in vitro. There's a way. We'll find a way. Don't you want to see me pregnant? With our baby? To see me get fat? To be there when I give birth? She's beautiful Sam. But she's not ours."

Sam shook his head, "I made a mistake."

"Yeah," Patrick nodded, "but it's an easy one to fix. Let me make a phone call outside." His hand lowered slowly. "To Grace and my friend outside to come in and get her." He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. "Someone will come in and get her."

"OK," Sam nodded and gestured with the knife before bringing back to rest at Lisbon's throat. "Call them."

"Kimball, hey it's Patrick. Yeah. This is a beautiful house Sam's picked out for our Grace. The living room is just inside the door but it's a little small. Feels a bit crowded. But the kitchen is nice and bright. The backyard looks nice and big. At least what I could see through the back door." He smiled broadly at Sam and winked again. "All we need is for Sam to drop to his left knee for her. Listen, Sam picked a pretty little girl for Grace, but they've decided not to keep her. They're going to try for one of their own. So I need you to come in and pick her up for us. OK?"

"OK," Cho replied. "Got it all Jane."

"What was all that?" Minnelli asked.

"Sam has the hostages in the living room. There's someone in the kitchen. Probably the parents. I'm going in for the kid." Cho replied. He took his holster off and handed it to Rigsby.

"Why you?" Rigsby demanded.

"Because Jane knows there is one thing I have that you don't," Cho knelt down and untied his left shoe.

"You're not going," the SWAT leader said.

"Yes I am," Cho said. "That's my team in there. And I am going. I'll be right back. While I'm inside, you guys get out whoever is in the kitchen." He walked across the yard with his hands up. He climbed the steps slowly then opened the door.

Sam dug the knife in slightly. "Turn around, let me see your back."

Cho did as he was told, catching Jane's gaze. "I'm just here for the girl."

Patrick smiled, "She's ready to go." He walked over and stooped down, "Come on sweetie."

"I want my mommy," she whimpered.

"I know sweetie. Let's go," he soothed as he picked her up. He rubbed her back gently as he handed her over to Cho. "Go with Mr. Kimball, he'll take you outside, OK?" Then Jane looked down. "Hang on Kimball, your shoe is untied. Don't want you to trip." He stooped and tied Cho's shoe. His back blocked Sam's view. "There you go. Careful going out."

"Thanks Jane," Cho said.

"Thank you." Jane met his gaze steadily. "Careful going out."

Cho looked to Lisbon and Grace. Then he walked out the door and down the steps. Sam watched him as he left and Patrick returned to standing in front of Grace.

"You need to let Lisbon go now too, Sam," Grace said. "I'm here. I'm with you. She can go."

"You're only here because I threatened her. I let her go and you will leave."

"Of course I won't," Grace soothed. "My future is with you. I know that now."

"I'm the only one who can protect you."

"Protect her from what, Sam," Patrick asked.

"From the stalker. The guy leaving the lilies. They're her favorite flower you know," Sam advised. "And this guy has corrupted that. He's very dangerous. He set her place on fire today you know."

"I know," Patrick nodded. "But you tried to save her didn't you? Tried to get her out of there."

"Yeah," Sam brightened. "I'm her savior. I alone can protect her. She needs me."

"Makes sense," Patrick observed. "Makes good sense." He wiped his forehead. "It's hot in here, or is it just me? Maybe it's the window. Mind if I take off my jacket?" He didn't wait for a reply, just slipped the jacket off and tossed it across the room to a chair.

Sam watched the jacket to its rumpled landing.

Lisbon watched Jane's face turn, catch Grace's eye, and look down behind him. Her eyes looked down then back up. When Sam's gaze returned to them, they were both looking forward once again.

"It is a bit hot in here," Sam replied. "We'll have to check out the AC before we move in."

"You should," Patrick said. "Also the foundation. If that crack I saw gets any bigger, you might have a real problem."

"Crack?"

"In the foundation," Patrick's voice became harsher. "Once a foundation is cracked, the whole structure could collapse. And if you think I'm letting you move Grace into an unsafe house, you just don't know me at all. She needs to be safe. She needs to be secure. And happy. And well."

"I can do that. I'll keep her safe and well," Sam was becoming angry as well. "What is your problem?"

"You are my problem, Sam. You say you want to protect Grace. But you have to threaten her to keep her here. You say you want her well and happy. But you beat her up when she doesn't 'behave'."

"Shut up," Sam snarled. "You SHUT UP!"

"You are a bully. And you are violent. You are not good for Grace. You don't know her." Patrick moved further in front of Grace.

"Of course I do. She's mine. I know everything about her. She loves lilies. And the color red. She loves puppies…"

"Everyone loves puppies you moron," Jane pushed and pushed. "You don't love her. You don't know her."

"I never hurt her. Just SHUT UP!" Sam took the knife from Lisbon's neck and waved it at Jane. "Shut your BIG MOUTH."

There came the unmistakable sound of metal being drawn across stiff leather. Click. Click. Grace's right hand came down to cover Patrick's ear. Her left hand came up holding a gun. Braced against Patrick's shoulder, she fired a single shot.

"Oh," the look of surprise would freeze on Sam's face as a hole appeared in his forehead. He slumped against the wall where blood and gray matter had sprayed. Then his body fell to the floor with a harsh thud.

Lisbon, Jane, and Grace simply stayed where they had been, breathing heavily. As the front door crashed open and SWAT spilled in.

"Suspect is down. I repeat. Suspect is down!"

Patrick turned slowly and used his hand to lower Grace's arm so that the gun pointed to the floor. A SWAT member walked over and gently took the weapon from her. Patrick went to Lisbon and stooped down, "This looks like just a scratch. You OK?"

"Not quite yet," she whispered drawing in a shaky breath as he pressed a handkerchief to the wound on her neck. "See to Grace."

"Is he dead?" Grace asked.

"Oh yeah," came a SWAT response. "He's not only merely dead…"

"He's really most sincerely dead," another responded. "Hell of a shot there, baby girl. Hell of a shot."

Grace swallowed and nodded then leaned against the window. Patrick reached her just as her knees began to give way. He caught her up in his arms, lifting to cradle her, and she buried her face at his neck. He carried her out passed the line of SWAT men, several of whom touched her back or hair as they came close enough. A couple complimented her aim and shot, but most just seemed to need to touch her.

Patrick felt Lisbon's hand touch his back, "You know if you give me a minute I can really play the hero and come back to carry you out."

"Shut up and go," she smiled, still holding his handkerchief to her neck. "Get her out of here."

Rigsby and Cho were being held back by uniformed officers, but once Patrick cleared the door there was no holding them. Both men reached out as if to take her from him. "I've got her. She's OK, just a little shocky."

"There's an ambulance down the block," Cho advised. "We can get it closer."

"I'm OK to carry her."

"I don't need an ambulance," Grace said against Jane's collar.

"No arguments," Lisbon said. Jane nodded and started walking down the sidewalk in the direction Cho had indicated.

"For you too, boss," Rigsby said pointing to her neck.

"Yeah, look," Lisbon caught both Rigsby and Cho by the arm and lowered her voice. "He said a couple things before you guys got here. Makes me think he took some stuff from Grace's before dousing everything. Take a look in his SUV, see if you can find anything, and then have it towed in. And mention to the family that if they come across anything of hers that we'll come and get it. Meet us at the hospital. We'll get checked out…"

"YOU BITCH!" the woman's voice carried across the sea of activity outside of the house. "How could you? All he wanted was to love you." She was standing in the middle of the street, inside of the barricade. Around her neck was a CBI ID card. "All he ever wanted. You MURDERING BITCH!"

Jane had frozen in place not too far down the street. Grace had lifted her head and turned to the sound of the voice.

"YOU MURDERING LITTLE BITCH." Suddenly there was a gun in the woman's hand. It was pointed at them. It was fired.

Jane felt a jolt, then Lisbon slammed into him at full force, throwing him to the concrete and knocking the wind from him as Grace landed on his chest and abdomen. The first shot was followed by a barrage of shots. Then silence followed by screaming and yelling. Pounding feet. Then Rigsby dropping down to them.

"You guys OK?"

"Peachy," Jane snapped as the air finally returned. "Not exactly how I pictured my first time covered by these two women."

Lisbon rolled off with a groan and a roll of her eyes, "She down?"

"Yeah," Cho acknowledged.

Patrick gasped in terror and sat up, "Lisbon you're hit." He reached for her jacket that was covered in bright red blood.

She pulled her jacket out to reveal a pristine white shirt underneath. Then, "Oh God."

Grace was staring up at them with wide eyes and an unbelievable pallor. There was an obscene amount of blood pouring from her shoulder. "Hurts," she whimpered.

A flurry of movement. Cho and Rigsby ripping off jackets and ties to try to stem the flood. Screams for help. SWAT pounding up. The ambulance squealing to a stop. Hands ripping her from him. More shouting. Then the siren screaming.

Wailing.

Him?

Rigsby?

Wailing.

Silence.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: To those of you still with me – thanks. And sorry this took so long. Life got --- complicated.

Also I made a change to the last chapter to correct a mistake. Why I thought Cho's first name was Kendall instead of Kimball, I'll never know. I my defense I work with a guy named Kendall and made the incorrect connection, at least I didn't tell him about it. Anyway I couldn't leave the error there. Sorry if you got an alert for a chapter you'd already read.

And lastly I know nothing about medical procedures or anatomy. If I've messed something up… well ignore it or go read a surgical journal.

Silence

Considering the number of people and the activity it couldn't be possible

But all there was

Was silence

Jane stood staring after the ambulance. Hands fisted in his hair, then down to rub his face.

And still there was just

Silence

"JANE DAMN IT SNAP OUT OF IT," Rigsby grabbed him roughly and spun him around. He gave him a quick pat down and yanked his car keys from his pants pocket.

Jane focused on the jingle of the keys as they were tossed through the air. They landed in Cho's outstretched hand. Then Rigsby was forcibly walking Jane to the CBI SUV. Blink twice. And they were racing down the street after the ambulance. Jane looked to Rigsby who was driving steadily but visibly shaking and sweating. Then he glanced out the rear window. His car was close behind. Followed by several SUVs with flashing lights. The sudden blare of the siren jolted Jane as Rigsby roared through a red light. He turned to look out the side window to watch the world rush by in a blur. He was vaguely aware that Rigsby was talking but couldn't focus on the words. Then the phone was clicked closed and slammed down into the cup holder between them.

"She's going to be OK. She's gotta be OK," Rigsby was muttering. "She's… She's going to be OK."

Jane took a deep breath that shuddered through his entire body.

"Don't…" Rigsby gasped out a sob. "Don't Jane. She is going to be OK. She has to be."

Jane tried to focus on one thing. Anything. But the world passed by too quickly. A blur of color. He closed his eyes.

The squeal of tires as they hit a corner too fast. Horns honking. Sirens screamed. He missed the silence. Sirens screamed. Rigsby's panting breaths. Another corner.

Then stillness.

Door opened. Slammed shut. Silence for a blessed few seconds. Then the door next to him was yanked open. Hands grabbed him. He was forced into the bright sunlit day. Heat. Then the sharp coolness in the white.

"Agent Rigsby?" there was a man in front of them. Short. Hospital scrubs. Leading. "This way sir."

Down a hallway, around a bend, short way down. Then through a door.

Into what was obviously a locker room. Confused, Jane tried to back out and was manhandled further in by the much stronger Rigsby.

"NO," Jane began to struggle. "We have to go to Grace, Wayne! Why… LET GO!"

"Jane, quit," Rigsby was trying to force him along.

"Jane just let us…" Cho began as he joined them.

"NO! Both of you? What is wrong with you?" Jane was fighting furiously when Rigsby suddenly grabbed him up under his arms placing both hands behind his neck in a hold he could not break.

"STOP!!!" Rigsby snarled.

Then Jane caught sight of himself in a full length mirror set at the end of the locker row. He felt his throat grow tight, his chest constrict, all the air leave. He was covered in blood. His shirt was completely saturated. His pants streaked. His hands had been coated before they twisted through his hair and rubbed his face. He was covered in blood. In her blood. "Oh God."

"Come on," Rigsby ordered more gently. "In here."

The young man who'd met them was already turning on the shower and testing the temperature. "I've already pulled some scrubs that should fit you guys."

"I've got his bag of clothes," Cho replied. "We should be OK. Thanks."

Rigsby put the now compliant Jane directly into the water stream fully clothed. "Just strip down in here."

Jane let the water flow over his face and hair for a moment before he began to undress. He let the shirt, vest, and pants plop down in the corner of the shower. The water at his feet ran red. Cho handed him his soap and shampoo from his carry bag. In silence, he washed clean of her blood. In silence, he washed the tears away.

Suddenly he jerked out of the water, "Where's Lisbon? She was hurt too. Where…"

"She rode in the ambulance with Grace," Cho replied. "We'll be sure she gets looked at."

.

.

They found Lisbon sitting on a bed in the Emergency Department with a young doctor examining her neck. "You guys OK?"

"No," Jane answered. "You?"

She just shook her head.

"This isn't bad," the doctor assured her. "Doesn't even need stitches."

"Thanks," Lisbon replied. "Someone should be down to tell us what is going on with Van Pelt."

"That the cop who got shot?" the doctor asked. "Let me bandage your injury and I'll find someone who can tell you what's going on." He worked quickly and covered Lisbon's wound. Then he tossed his gloves and slipped out. He was back almost instantly with a woman in khaki pants and a white blouse.

"Hello. I am Rebecca Sawyer; I will be your liaison. Right now Officer Van Pelt…"

"Agent," Rigsby corrected.

"I apologize. Agent Van Pelt is being prepped for surgery. And I am sorry but you can't see her. Not yet. Her surgeon is Adam Jacobs. And I know it sounds cliché but he is one of the best vascular surgeons in the country. The surgery will take several hours, I can't be more precise then that. The X-ray shows that the bullet ricocheted slightly after the initial impact so it will depend on what Jacobs finds when he gets in there. I assume that you will be waiting," at their response, she continued, "we've closed off a surgical waiting room for your personnel. If you will follow me." She waited until they were in the elevator, to speak further. "Hospital policy is that we do not release any information to anyone. We need to know how you want phone calls dealt with."

"Advise any press to contact the CBI public relations office. Her family has already been informed." Lisbon replied. At the men's expressions, "Dave called Will. Beyond us, he's her only family."

"Anyone in uniform or obviously law enforcement will be sent up to the waiting area," the liaison continued as the doors opened. "There is no smoking in the hospital but the waiting area we've reserved has roof access. The space out there has good cell phone service. There is a soda and snack machine just outside in the hall. I will be close for as long as I am needed." She led them to a fairly large waiting area where several men already waited. One wall was mostly glass, looking out over a roof veranda where Dave paced on his cell phone.

The four of them settled into one corner. Lisbon and Jane dropped onto a sofa while Cho and Rigsby each took a chair. They settled in to wait.

And wait

.

..

_Concerned blue eyes over a green surgical mask. "Let me see the X-ray again before I start. OK. Let's begin. Scalpel."_

"_Scalpel."_

..

.

And wait.

.

..

"_Damn it there is a lot of blood here. Suction. Where the hell is the damn thing?"_

..

.

Lisbon was staring up at the ceiling.

"What are you thinking?" Jane asked softly.

"Our first out of town case. First time flying with Van Pelt. She checked a bag. Luggage. She checked luggage. And I reprimanded her for it. She probably was carrying everything she could possibly need in that bag. Just in case she had to run. And I reprimanded her."

"You couldn't have known."

"She never did it again. Never travelled anywhere with more than a carry on. What did she leave behind Jane? How did she sort through and decide, this is what I can't live without and this is OK if I never see it again."

Jane sighed, "She had a few changes of clothes. A couple of pieces of jewelry that I have never seen her wear, including a locket with a photo that has to be of her mother, the resemblance is amazing, there really isn't much of her father in her, along with a man I didn't recognize. Could have been her father but I doubt it. She had money. An Iowa driver's license and a credit card in the name of Grace Elizabeth O'Reilly. And a journal. No I didn't read it."

"Really?'

"Well just a little bit of it."

.

..

_Clang. "Don't know if they need that bullet for evidence or not but bag it."_

"_Hell of a lot of damage from something so small."_

"_Yeah. Suction. Let's get her fixed up. I am NOT walking into a room of armed men and women to tell them I lost her."_

..

.

"What was she like?"

Dave lifted his chin from his hand and turned to Jane, "I'm sorry?"

"What was she like? Before Sam."

"Sam really didn't change her that much. There was a long stage of grief of course. Losing Jack was hard on her. But Grace was always quiet, reserved. A little sad maybe. I sometimes wonder what she was like before her father took her."

"Took her?" Rigsby asked.

Dave nodded and cleared his throat, "Grace's mother and father were never married. Grace had very little contact with him before her mother died. Just a few visits here and there. Her mother died when Grace was six. And then there was a prolonged custody battle between her father and her mother's fiancé. Lasted almost a year. But the judge finally gave full custody to her father. A short time later, he took the coaching position at a small college just outside of Philadelphia. I know that Grace went to visit the fiancé a few times but soon lost that connection. Grace said a few things over the years that make me believe that her father placed her mother on a very high pedestal. A height Grace could never reach. Constant comparison to a perfect woman couldn't have been easy. I always thought it was strange that he was so desperately in love with a woman that he went out of his way to avoid."

"Maybe she avoided him," Lisbon remarked. "She'd moved on from him. Fell in love with another man."

"Was there anything suspicious about her death?" Rigsby asked in a low tone.

Dave sighed, "Only that God would take such a woman so early. She died of an aneurism. Went in the space of a heartbeat."

.

..

…

.

"_Christ where is all this blood coming from. We need to stop it or she's going to bleed out on this table. Let me see the X-ray again, see if I can track the trajectory and see what it hit."_

"_They're asking again."_

"_NOT NOW. Tell them I'm working as fast as I can. Tell them she's holding her own. She's a fighter thank God. There. There it is. Got you, you sucker. Clamp."_

"_Pressure's dropping."_

"_Hang more blood."_

"_We're running through our supply, it's a rare type."_

"_HEY BECCA? Cops down there want to do something? See if anyone's a registered donor type B neg. How'd that be Gracie? Some big hunky testosterone flooded cop blood in you?"_

"_Wise ass, there are a lot of women cops out there too. Including this one."_

"_Pressure is still dropping."_

"_Come on Grace, fight for me here. Stay with us!"_

.

…

..

.

"This is completely an inappropriate question," Lisbon began. "So you don't really need to answer."

"OK," Dave replied.

"Did she really miscarry? Or did she abort?"

Dave's forehead creased in confusion, "I don't follow."

"After Jack… died," Lisbon took in a breath. "Did Grace miscarry Sam's baby?" Rigsby gasped in sharply and held his breath. Lisbon glanced at him but continued, "Like I said it's inappropriate to ask, but I just was wondering."

Dave shook his head, "Grace was never pregnant. Trust me I would have known. We all practically lived with Shannon in the weeks after Jack's murder. What made you think she was?"

"She said so," Lisbon looked to Jane for confirmation. "Sam…"

"Sam said he knew she'd aborted," Jane interrupted. "That's why he held the little girl. As a replacement. She convinced him that she'd miscarried. And that they could try again. That's why he let the little girl go. She must have know he wouldn't believe her if she just flat out denied being pregnant. So she lied."

"She lied," Cho said. "She lied and you didn't know."

Jane shrugged, "I was in front of her. Couldn't see her face. Besides I sometimes have trouble telling when she's lying."

"Really?" Lisbon smirked slightly.

"Sometimes. Mostly because she keeps so much hidden. Well kept. Guess we know a lot of it now."

"Have to wonder if it's all though," Cho remarked.

..

…

..

.

..

"_Scared me there for a minute Grace. Would prefer you didn't do that again. Suture."_

"_Suture."_

"_Clamp off."_

_Sighs all around._

"_Pressure is holding. Coming up a bit now."_

"_Good girl Grace. Keep fighting there. You keep fighting."_

..

…

..

…

..

Rigsby suddenly got up and strode out of the room, out onto the roof, and across to the low wall on the edge.

Patrick followed slowly.

"I'm OK. Just leave me be a bit," Rigsby said as he rubbed the center of his chest.

"Sure," Jane nodded.

Rigsby paced back and forth a few times, "Really Jane. Go back inside. I'm fine."

"Hm-mm," Jane murmured.

"JANE GO AWAY!"

"No," Jane replied softly.

"Just… just…" Wayne turned and sat down hard leaning back against the wall. He screwed his eyes shut breathing heavily through his nose.

"You're upset. We almost lost her." Jane squatted down in front of the younger man.

"Lost her? We almost never knew her. She was almost never in our lives. I could have gone the rest of my life without meeting her. Without knowing she existed. How horrific is that? That we could have not had her in our lives."

"Terrifying," Jane acknowledged. "But we do. We have her in our lives. We just have to hold on tight to her now."

They stayed there for a long time as the sun began to sink below the horizon.

"How much longer do you think it'll be?"

"Not much longer. Don't worry. She'll be fine."

"How do you know? You can't be sure."

"I know everything Wayne."

..

…

….

…

..

"_How're you doing Adam?" disembodied voice over speaker._

_The surgeon looked up as his brow was wiped off. "oh you know. Golf game's been a bit rusty. Having trouble with the water hazards."_

"_You don't play golf."_

"_yeah that's the problem. I get on the green and want to launch a boat. Groundskeepers get really pissed when you do that. Clamp off."_

"_But seriously…"_

"_Seriously sir, you asked about me. Now if you'd asked about Agent Van Pelt, I'd have told you she is doing better then expected. Especially considering she has more of someone else's blood in her then her own right now. We're passed the halfway point. I've repaired the artery. The bone fractures are relatively minor and will heal given time."_

"_OK. I'll leave you to it then."_

..

…

…..

…

..

The day was starting to catch up to Lisbon. She was sitting on the sofa next to Jane. Her hands were tightly clenched in her lap, so hopefully no one could see them shake. But in a room full of cops and Jane, hiding was not really possible.

"You're not feeling well," Jane remarked.

"No… I'm fine," she shook her head then swallowed as fatigue and nausea swept through her. Her hand came up to cover the bandage on the side of her neck.

Jane stared at her for a second then went to his feet. He grabbed a trashcan and placed it on the floor in front of her. "Bend over. And breathe slowly through your nose." He placed a cold hand on her neck as she did as she was told. All around her she could hear men moving. Cops weren't great at waiting so any excuse to act was jumped on. Voices swelled, footsteps, then a female voice.

"Agent Lisbon, it's Rebecca, I've brought a nurse."

"I'm fine," she insisted, feeling her face and neck flush with embarrassment.

"So you usually sit with your face in a trash bin?" came a male voice, slightly accented. "Have you taken the medication you were given earlier?"

"Yeah," she replied.

"Did you take the pills with food?"

"No," Cho answered this time, "She said she wasn't hungry."

"That's the problem then," the nurse said. "Ma'am this nausea probably will not pass any time soon. If you are willing, I can give you a shot to alleviate the discomfort."

"I don't want anything that will make me sleepy. I need to be alert for…"

"No sleepy, I promise," he replied. "OK?"

She whispered, "OK." His footsteps walked away, returning quickly. He pulled down her jacket, pushed up her sleeve, and had the needle in her arm before she could even rethink her consent. It took several long minutes during which Jane's now warm hand was replaced by a cold pack in a cloth on her neck before the nausea faded. She was now leaning back against the sofa with her eyes closed. Once she felt sure of herself and her stomach, she opened her eyes to see her team watching her with concern. "I'm OK now guys. Actually think I could eat a little something light. And could use some water." Rigsby leapt to his feet and crossed the room to where food had been piled up. She watched the other men make a path for him. He grabbed two containers, napkins, utensils, and an icy bottle of water.

"I grabbed you soup and a chicken sandwich," Rigsby identified the items as he handed them to her. "Check to be sure the soup's hot enough first."

"It's fine," she smiled as she stirred the noodles around. "OK, now you three get something for yourselves. I mean it. Rigsby you haven't eaten in hours, your system is going to go into shock any minute now. Go."

..

…

…..

…

..

"_OK and there. Last tendon is repaired. Pressure?"_

"_Still holding strong."_

"_That's my girl Gracie. Keep it going."_

"_You look tired."_

"_Probably because I am tired. Suction again there."_

..

…

…..

…

..

Despite the coffee she'd poured into herself, she was tired and cold. Even with all the men and women in the room, the air was freezing by the corner they'd chosen. Jane was now up, standing and staring out the window. Dave was back outside, on his cell phone, and puffing on a cigarette he'd gotten from one of the officers. Cho was reading a book he'd found somewhere. Rigsby was dozing in the chair, jerking awake every so often.

She shivered. It was taking so long, that couldn't be a good sign.

A SWAT member walked over. When she looked to his face, she recognized one of the first through the door. The one who'd confirmed Sam's death and commended Grace's shot. "Ma'am? Got these from an orderly." He held out a pillow and a blanket. "They're bringing in more, but…" he laid them down next to her. "You all should try to rest." He patted Jane's shoulder as he left their isolation.

"Thanks… ah…"

"Joel, ma'am, my name's Joel," he replied solemnly.

"Thank you Joel."

He touched his forehead in a pseudo salute then left.

Jane took the pillow and placed it next to her against the arm of the sofa. "Lay down." She wanted to argue but felt the weight of exhaustion bearing down, so she curled onto her side and let him cover her with the warmed blanket. Then he dropped next to her feet and leaned back. He hooked his ankle around the end table and dragged it around in front of them to prop his feet up. With one hand draped over her knees, the other over his eyes, he let out a long sigh.

.

…

…….

….

..

"_OK, that's it folks, Good job. All of you. Get her to recovery. I'll go brief the mob."_

….

…

..

.

Cho's book had been dangling from limp fingers so Rigsby took it and laid it flat to mark the page. Lisbon had fallen asleep finally, her face relaxed and breathing deep. Jane was either asleep or doing his impression of it, head tilted, eyes moving in REM. Dave was snoring on a couch. A few people had left, but not many. The entire SWAT team was still there, though some of them too had fallen asleep. But Rigsby was wide awake. Barely blinking.

"Excuse me?" the firm voice carried through the room. "I am Doctor Adam Jacobs."

Jane roused instantly, "Lisbon! The surgeon is here."

Rigsby leapt to his feet. "How is she?"

Adam walked over to the corner where Jane had rose to hold Rigsby back. Cho stood on the other side. Lisbon sat up but didn't rise as the tall man walked over to where they were. He glanced back at the sea of uniforms and suit shirts that gathered behind him.

"OK," Adam began. "She came through the surgery like a trooper. Or a state agent as it were. I think she's going to be fine."

A roar went through the gathered mass.

"Guys this is still a hospital," Minelli's voice rose over the noise. Silence descended.

"She lost a lot of blood," Adam continued. "There was damage to the main artery, the scapula was fractured from the bullet impact, the ricochet caused injury to the muscles and tendons. Pretty much made a mess of things. But structurally everything is repaired. There may be some residual nerve damage but we'll have to wait until she wakes up to test. I believe with time and therapy she will regain full use of the arm." He paused again for the muffled noise that went through the room. "Of course there is always a risk of post surgical infection or complication, but it looks good. It looks real good now."

"Thank you doctor," Lisbon's voice was raspy.

Rigsby and Cho both sat down hard.

Jane reached out to take Adam's hand. He gripped it firmly and wrapped his free hand around the doctor's wrist. "Thank you. We can't thank you enough. We need to be with her when she wakes up."

Adam nodded, "You're certainly welcome. Someone will come get you soon."

"NO," Jane's voice was unyielding. "We will be there when she wakes up. She will not open her eyes to strangers. We have to be there."

The doctor met his gaze, "OK. Someone will take you to recovery. But only a few of you. Not all hundred and twenty."

"It will only be five of us. And we promise to be good."

..

..

..

..

Grace's eyes fluttered. Jane leaned in closer to her face, "Come on sweetheart, open your eyes for me."

She opened them half way as if to peek at him.

"Hi." He laid his hand on her forehead and rubbed gently with his thumb.

"hi"

Her voice was barely a whisper.

Rigsby uttered a laugh that was almost a sob and gripped her foot. "Hi!"

"Hey kid," Dave sighed.

"I had an amazing dream," Grace said.

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hmm," she looked from one concerned face to the next, "And you were there, and you were there, and even you were there tin man," she finished on Jane's face.

"Brat," Dave chuckled.

Jane just leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Anything hurt?"

"Kinda numb." Her gaze went to Lisbon. "Ma'am. Oh God ma'am I am so sorry." Tears filled her eyes.

"No, no," Lisbon moved in and Dave stepped aside and let her next to Grace's head. She leaned over being careful of the wrapped injury. "I'm fine. It's barely a scratch."

"He could have killed you."

"Could have. Didn't. I'm fine. You got the kid out of the house. SWAT got the parents out of the house. Sam is dead. Score one for the good guys." Lisbon brushed through Grace's hair gently. "It's OK. It's going to be OK. Shh. Don't cry. If you get upset they'll kick us out."

Grace let out a long shuddering breath as Jane wiped her eyes. "We need your help. Flowers," Jane said. "We know you hate lilies…"

"Always hated lilies," she replied. She gave a very long blink. "Tired."

"No Grace," Dave stepped forward, "You need to stay with us for awhile longer. Stay awake."

"Why do you hate lilies?" Cho asked, now gripping her other ankle.

"My mom. She died just before Easter. The church was filled floor to ceiling with lilies. They've always meant death to me," her voice was groggy. She blinked and tried to focus. "Ma'am?"

"Don't start that ma'am stuff again," Lisbon wiped at her own cheeks. "You haven't done that since your first week."

"Sorry boss," Grace yawned.

"So what kind of flowers do you like?" Rigsby asked.

"Roses," it was a soft sigh with a smile.

"Tell us why Grace. Come on, just a few more minutes. Tell us why you like roses," Jane demanded.

"My mom," this was said with another smile but her eyes closed. "People said she could kill a plastic plant. Actually think she did kill a couple, leaves all fell off. But her grandmother's house where I grew up had a rose bush in back. Usually they take care. Lots of tending. But she'd forget to water it. Or she'd forget she was watering it and would drown it. She ran over it with the lawn mower. When I was two, I fell into it, scratched my face. She took clippers to it. Cut it back as far as she could. But it still grew. It flourished. Beautifully. And my mom said that it was like us. No matter what life did to us, we were going to survive." Her voice trailed off into silence.

"Your mom was brilliant, sweetheart," Jane leaned down and kissed her forehead again. "Grace?"

"It's OK, let her sleep."


End file.
